


Another Nameless Planet

by Butterfly



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-04
Updated: 2005-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin knows that his day will come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Nameless Planet

He could taste blood.

That thought, more than anything else, cleared Anakin’s thoughts. His tongue darted out, licking at a cut on the side of his mouth, filling his mouth with traces of copper and mud. He didn’t quite remember getting it.

He was lying on his back and his entire right side seemed to ache, though the pain was centered at his midsection. Whatever had gotten him, it’d hit him hard enough that he’d feel it for days yet, if they weren’t close to a medcenter. They usually weren’t.

And he had the feeling that he didn’t want to try to open his right eye any time soon.

Anakin could sense Obi-Wan kneeling beside him, emanating worry while desperately trying not to. Anakin was still wearing his own cloak, so the forgiving softness under his head had to be Obi-Wan’s.

“It’s going to leave a scar.” There was only the slightest trace of emotion in Obi-Wan’s voice – someone less skilled in the Force than Anakin wouldn’t have detected it at all. Anakin would be willing to bet that many of the Masters didn’t pick up most of Obi-Wan’s broadcasts, loud as they felt to Anakin himself.

“And mar my dashing good looks?” Anakin asked lightly, opening his left eye as he felt Obi-Wan relax beside him.

They appeared to be in some sort of cave, though a warm and dry one. Any moment now, Anakin would remember what planet they were on. And if he didn’t, Obi-Wan would be certain to remind him.

He could just barely make out sunlight around the bend of a wall and he spared a moment to wonder just what they’d gotten themselves into this time.

“You really should stop listening to those newscasts,” Obi-Wan said, reaching forward to place a cooling cloth over Anakin’s right eye.

“Yes, Master,” Anakin agreed, just as he did every time that Obi-Wan brought up the subject. Obi-Wan hid his smile, but not nearly quickly enough for it to escape Anakin’s notice. That beard hid so much less than Obi-Wan thought that it did.

“And I expect that they’ll only find you more dashing with the scar.” Obi-Wan remarked in a low tone. “Not that you should care about such things, my young apprentice.”

“A Jedi seeks not such adulation,” Anakin said, shifting on the ground. Through the robes, he could feel the warmth of Obi-Wan’s legs against his thigh.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Obi-Wan asked and, as was happening more and more often, he forgot his discipline enough to sound more than a little concerned. Anakin didn’t know if that was because they were spending longer away from the Temple each mission or if it was simply because of Anakin’s own influence. Not that it mattered, as long as it kept happening.

“I’m quite comfortable, Master,” Anakin said.

“Good, as I have something that I would like to ask you,” Obi-Wan said, settling down besides Anakin. Ah, this was familiar. In some ways, Obi-Wan was the most predictable person that Anakin had ever known.

“Yes, Master?” Anakin prompted, as he knew Obi-Wan wanted him to.

“Do you happen to remember just _where_ you dropped your lightsaber?” Obi-Wan asked, in a deceptively patient voice.

“Well,” Anakin started, and he tried to think of a way to get out of the upcoming lecture.

“It’s just that it is a bit of an annoyance for you, making so many of them,” Obi-Wan continued, folding his arms across his chest.

“Um,” Anakin managed. He still couldn’t think of an escape.

“Not to mention what the other apprentices will say when they see you working on yet another one,” Obi-Wan said, false sympathy practically dripping from his words.

“Master,” Anakin said. Obi-Wan paused, an expectant gaze sliding over to Anakin. Anakin opened his mouth again, but found himself at a complete loss for words.

“Yes, Anakin, what is it?” Obi-Wan asked, leaning slightly over Anakin, one eyebrow arched elegantly. Anakin sighed softly, admitting defeat.

“Master, I appear to have lost my lightsaber,” Anakin said.

“Oh, did you,” Obi-Wan said, in an elaborately casual manner.

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said. Obi-Wan’s look told him that this was insufficient. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you? And why is that?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Because my lightsaber is my life,” Anakin recited, manfully resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan’s lips twitched in amusement, but he clearly was trying to suppress it. “Well, as long as you remember that.”

One day, Obi-Wan would have to give up this pretense of being Anakin’s Master. They were equals – that grew more clear each day out here. And things would be much simpler if Obi-Wan would just _admit_ that, rather than continue to play the Council’s game.

Still, Anakin had found a measure of patience after his wedding to Padmè. Not enough to fully quench his longing for Obi-Wan to treat him as a fellow Knight, or perhaps even a fellow Master, but enough for him to realize that Obi-Wan didn’t have a choice, at least not yet.

So, until that day came, they would both have to play along.

Anakin couldn’t help hoping that it would come soon.


End file.
